Page 6 of Krampus Kruk
“Where’s your coat?” I ask once her purse is returned without her noticing.
Her expression reveals her for a split second, looking sheepish and less confident. “I didn’t bring one,” she says, and her feminine voice is softer, cuter.
I stand, and she slides off her stool too. She’s short, maybe a foot shorter than me. I step to the table I’d been at before she arrived, and she follows behind. “Here.” I extend my black puffer coat to her.
“You stole someone’s coat?” she asks, sass dripping from her lips.
The mouth on this girl.I can’t wait to punish it, to fill it, making her unable to speak. “It’s mine. Put it on, and let’s go.” She obeys, sliding it on, practically swimming in it. “So tiny.”
She rolls her eyes, and I grab for her hand, leading us toward the door. “Aren’t you going to pay?”
“I own the place.”
“Sure.” She scoffs. “What time is it?”
I cock my brow. “You charge by the hour?”
5
“I’m not a hooker.” I punch his arm, and he chuckles, motioning to a black SUV as we exit the bar. It started snowing, but he seems unfazed, walking hand-in-hand with me in just a t-shirt, not even a shiver. He opens the car door for me, and call me surprised. The coat, the hand hold, the door …
“Old school,” I sass, sliding in—although, when men treat me like this, it makes me weak. As I watch him walk around the hood, my heart races as I shiver in my seat.This is a terrible idea.Well, terrible for feminism. But this man will fuck the shit out of me, that’s clear. We’ll have fun, then …
“Hey, you’re going to drive me back here after, yeah?” I ask. I want to confirm before buckling myself in.
“Who says I’m returning you?”
I roll my eyes. “Ha, ha … but seriously.”
“If you want to leave, I’ll bring you back.”
I believe him; still, I press, “You think this?—”
“When I tell you to shut the fuck up back at my place,” he cuts me off, “are you going to listen, or do I need to muzzle you?”
Wet.
Why does it turn me on when guys talk to me like that? I wish I could be into something regular, something expected, but nope. I have to go back with some nameless man to catch a high.
“I think what you meant to say wasgag.” He rubs his eyes, maybe regretting entertaining me this evening. “I thought you could handle me?”
“You’re a tough case.” The look he flashes me …
“We’re two peas in a fucked-up little pod.” I laugh, buckling myself in.
He chuckles, starting the car, resting his hand on my thigh. Staring down at it, I feel nervous again.What the fuck am I doing?I don’t know his name, he doesn’t know mine, and neither of us care.
“How far away is your place?”
“Close.”
“Like …?”
“Too short of a drive for road head.”
“I’m not going back to your place to suck your dick.” He cocks a brow, taking his eyes off the road to stare at me. I have nothing to lose, so I share what I want to happen. “I want you to throw me around and break my back …” I can’t hold back my innate sass. “If you can still do that.”
The growl that comes from him. It’s the most masculine sound I’ve ever heard, and his grip on my thigh tightens past the point of playful.
